


Starlight, Be Mine

by MadAce



Series: Hisoillu [3]
Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Hanahaki disease equivalent, Hurt/Comfort, I jump around a bit to play around with descriptions, I simp over Illumi through Hisoka, Light Angst, M/M, Mentions of Hisoka's past, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Not Beta Read, OOC, POV Third Person, Pining, Unrequited Love, sorry whoops, star tears disease
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-11
Updated: 2020-12-11
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:13:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28006746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MadAce/pseuds/MadAce
Summary: What was going on?Hisoka's palms faced the heavens that leaked out of his eyes, his cowering eyelashes bulged and gave way to crystal drops that poured down his face, smearing his face paint and muddling them into nothingness. The iridescence of his tears sparkled like forgotten galaxies; each drop encapsulating the feeling of forlorn love.
Relationships: Hisoka/Illumi Zoldyck
Series: Hisoillu [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2045407
Comments: 2
Kudos: 49
Collections: Hisoillu Pain





	Starlight, Be Mine

**Author's Note:**

> This is a bit of an apology post for my Hanahaki AU (Part 2 of my Hisoillu dump, if you want to check it out). I don't see Star Tear Disease written often, so I thought it would be fun to play around with it and explore Hisoka's background a bit like I explored Illumi's background in the Hanahaki AU. This also follows the same kind of structure so; opening, glimpse into past, and then the continuation in parts.

He didn’t cry. He _shouldn't_ be crying. 

The golden eyes of his glimmered in dull light and shielded any and all emotion behind dilated pupils and an upturned sneer.

_What was going on?_

His palms faced the heavens that leaked out of his eyes, his cowering eyelashes bulged and gave way to crystal drops that poured down his face, smearing his face paint and muddling them into nothingness. The iridescence of his tears sparkled like forgotten galaxies; each drop encapsulating the feeling of forlorn love. The shimmering waterfalls burned his skin and cascaded irregular patterns of light around the empty corridor that was his room.

The tears started to pool into his open palm, warming his cold fingers and creating a puddle of starlight. He felt a soft breath whistle past his parted lips, licking the dry skin as he managed to focus his blurry vision into the molten liquor.

He allowed his hands to part, urging the liquid to seep past long fingers, his exhale catching as the sound of crystal shattering rang in his awaiting eardrums.

—

_The circus lights were stark, shining hot white lights down at the sand pit. The stage glimmered with organza, banners dancing upon the breeze that was trickling in past the large entrance. Cotton cloth and childish faces blended in together as the crowd cheered and slotted into their seats, awaiting their show._

_The deafening chatter was muffled behind thick curtains that shielded the circus acts as they prepared for yet another long night. Lions’ roars were hushed, squeaking wheels clicked to the beat of a ticking clock, rigs were pulled into place, and tough rope slapped and resounded against the thick wooden poles that kept the tent upright and functioning._

_A young boy shuffled past the crowd, brushing passed latex costumes, coated equally in sweat and cosmetics, and rushed to an abandoned mirror to apply his glossy grease face paint. He worked his brush over the small flame of an oil candle, warming up the thick appliqué and thriving in the feeling of the heat on his cheeks as he brushed on the makeup. His sunken in eyes were smeared over in pale white and a dense glitter, which shined in the subtle candle light. He fluffed up his hair, dull and lacking gloss from sleepless nights. The speckled and smog filtered mirror did no better in improving his appearance and he felt a huff of frustration slide passed pursed lips. At least the shine of makeup would distract from his dreary eyes._

_He paused in his preparations, childish hands searching his pockets before retrieving a miniature, yellowed photograph. His mother’s picture was starting to wrinkly, a fine vignette curling around the edges due to age. He always kept the small Polaroid tucked into his chest pocket, close to the heart. It was an emotional weight that always made his left side feel heavier than his right._

_He felt a crease form between his eyebrows and his teeth chatter. He quickly urged himself to stop at the fear of too intense of a wrinkle in his face chipping away the cheap greasepaint. Instead, the young magician bit at his inner cheek, worrying the thin skin between sharp teeth._

_A lone beam from the stage lights managed to pierce a slit in the back curtain, shifting into a wide array of colors and announcing the beginning of the show. An overwhelming calm met the crazed performers as they took care to make final preparations quickly and headed onto the stage at the beck and call of the Ring Master._

_Once his feet hit the stage floor, he met the crowd with a wide smile, teeth bared and flaming batons flicking from his small hands and into the air. His eyes traveled across the wide girth of the circus seating before abruptly pausing and choking on his breath. He caught himself staring at a lone women in the crowd, his vision blurring from the smoke and bright lights around him._

_He felt nauseous._

_Is that...? No.. it can’t..._

_The sound of a metal baton making impact and the sizzling of the sand on the ground woke him from his wishful daydream and silent prayers._

_He cursed under his breath and threw each remaining baton into the air, allowing them to spiral and hit the ground in a theatric display of flames. He quickly pulled out his cards and proceeded with the show. Pained eyes flickered back to the women in the crowd, her face contorting and becoming nothing in the sea of applauding people._

_How foolish of him. His mother was dead after all._

_Once he was shuffled out of the stage by a large net and the trapeze artists, he found himself back at the lone makeup mirror. The candle flame was burning low and he sighed wistfully at the quick escape of his only companion, flickering in and out of life and smoke pluming into the dusty silver screen of his reflection._

_Fingertips found old paper, smooth and thin by years of wear, and he looked upon it longingly._

_What would you think, mama, if you saw the situation I was in? I’ve made it far but..._

_Resounding footsteps shook the unsteady mirror and Hisoka whipped his head around, quickly standing to greet the incoming Ring Master; Dark eyes and a growling sneer towered over him._

_“What was that performance? There was no discussion of throwing the batons to the ground! They could have been damaged because of that trick!” the Ring Master eyed the cowering boy, whose head was downturned, chin pitifully tucked into his chest. He followed the young magician’s eyes downwards to the piece of paper clutched into a shaking fist. He reached down and plucked the old photographer, barely sparing it a glance and ignoring the boy’s cry of terror._

_“This! Is this the cause of your poor performance? We have no room for substandard displays under my circus roof, and we definitely have no room for memories that should be forgotten.” Sharp eyes scanned the boy, who could barely muster a response, shoulders shaking in fear and gaze jumping between the photograph and the Ring Master. With a dramatic and heaving sigh, he tilted his gloved hand downward, allowing the flame of the shuddering candle to lick and engulf the awaiting memory and watched as the ash blew to the floor._

_“You are lucky you were able to join the troupe at your age... you are young, but talented. Even so, another slip up like that and I’ll have your head.” The Ring Master turned tail, long red coat submitting to the breeze that blew underneath it as he marched back into the spotlight to urge on the cheering crowd._

_Hisoka felt his lips twitch uncontrollably. His breathing was erratic, the rapid rise and fall of his chest provided no relief to the feeling of constriction he was experiencing. His hair started to part from its styling, falling over his cheeks like the wing span of a bird. Small hands reached for warm cheeks and he scrubbed at them viscously, thriving in the feeling of glitter scraping and nicking at his face, only leaving thin threads of scarlet in its place. The blood clotted with the runny grease makeup and the tiny magician fell to his knees._

_When his pale fingers finally parted from rosy cheeks, rubbed raw in grief, he pursued forward in a slow crawl. He reached out for the ash, still burning like an ember, on the dusty ground below him. The choking frown on his face thinned and he finally sat back on his heels, blurry eyes looking up to track the stripes of the tent’s roof top. His eyes followed their path to a part in the thick cloth, which gave way to a starry night sky above him._

He was _nothing_ in this world.

This was the last time Hisoka had cried. He swore to himself he would forget how to.

He killed them all with a biting grin on his face.

—

He searched desperately for the sound of chrome wind chimes crying out in his ears nonstop, and sucked in a deep breath in a poor attempt to soothe his weeping.

 _What had forced such bright bursts to seep from behind his eyes?_ Despite his flaming persona, Hisoka was certain that his insides were rotted thoroughly.

Shaking fingers reached for dusty encyclopedias, skimming for symptoms and reasons for his wallowing, all the while trying to shield worn pages from the sharp crystals that scattered from between red eyelids.

Fingertips brushed and slit themselves among yellowed page creases, coated evenly in dust and slivers of satin crimson. The twinges of pain from worried paper cuts feinted in comparison to the tears that, at last, managed to slow its pursuits of attempting to rip apart Hisoka’s eyes.

Star Tears Disease.

_How... telling of a name..._

“Could be more eccentric..” Hisoka mused in agonizing comedy at the situation at hand.

_It was a severely understudied ailment, most symptoms were predictions due to the lack of case studies at hand. When unrequited love rears its antagonizing and heart wrenching head, the patient with the brunt of the emotion would suffer with star-like tears. The pools of liquid that weeped from lovelorn eyes were consistently reported to mimic the shape of stars and fall with the accompanying tune of twinkling. The gorgeous iridescence of the tears came with a price, specifically the lost of the photoreceptors of the patient, eventually leading to incurable blindness._

_It could only be assumed that the reciprocation of such deep love would reverse the effects._

A bitter smile drew itself upon Hisoka’s face, vision blurring slightly. He shut the rotting cover of the encyclopedia with a heavy thud and slid the distressing book away, eyes staying frozen upon the wood grain where it once sat. His hands came to the center of his view, clutching each other in desperate despair, turning pale and clammy as galant breaths puffed out of Hisoka’s lips. Sharp fingernails dug into awaiting flesh, allowing saturated scarlet to ooze and make love to the stars that scattered themselves upon the enamel. The magician felt his head tilt forward limply and he rested the weight of his forehead and overwhelming thoughts upon the suffocating hands, paying no mind to the blood that lie waiting to soak the locks of hair that came loose from its slicked style.

_Of course he fell in love. He should have seen it coming from miles away._

The ravenette that managed to pierce his heart, both literally and figuratively, was as precious as a porcelain ballerina, meant to be kept locked up and safe behind the covering of an aged bronze music box.

He finally sat up, hands unclamping from their lover’s embrace as one elbow was hitched, palm reaching up to cup his forehead.

He felt weak. So utterly disgusting. The heavy feeling in his chest and behind his eyelids made him want to dry heave. _This isn’t what he worked up to be._

The redhead willed himself to reach for his phone, bringing it to his ear to drown his sorrows in the high pitched ringing that soon connected him to a solemn voice.

“Hisoka.”

“Ah! Illumi, I haven’t heard from you in some time hmm?”

“You don’t usually call me unless there is something serious happening.”

“Oh hush! I call you all the time, hmm? Well.. at least I text you all the time, so what’s the difference if I wanted to talk here and there?” He felt the stars drive their needle like edges into his waterline, begging to be released and display to him the wonderful colors that made up the inner workings of his cornea. The gentle hum of curiosity that replied to him soothed his anxieties, like a soft flame among cold cheeks.

“Have you heard of Star Tears Disease, Illumi dear?”

“Mm. I’ve only seen a case study or two, I don’t remember much, but it is certainly a gorgeous name for an ailment.”Hisoka could imagine the neutral face of his acquaintance. Despite their rocky relationship, Illumi always seemed content when indulging in Hisoka’s whims and off topic discussions. _When have they gotten so close?_ And the odds of people like them to have met and become steadfast ‘friends’; if he dare even call them that?

“It’s really a pitiful disease if you think about it. Unrequited love, really? There are much more exciting ways to lose your eyesight.”

“I suppose so... Hisoka, what’s that noise in the background?” The magician tilted his head down, watching the stars form a night sky among the black wood, glowing bright and beckoning him to envelop himself within them.

“Oh.. I recently came across an old music box. Sound’s lovely, doesn’t it?”

—

He had forgone the use of makeup. The stars that trickled down his face were too overwhelming and too stunning to attempt to be overpowered by measly face paint.

Hisoka would have a lull in tears at times, giving him time to breathe. He should have been thankful for these moments of ease, but he rather mourned it, willing for the burning flow to continue its trek down angular cheekbones and only further strengthen his assurance that Illumi will never love him and deserves much better. 

He wasn’t planning to fall in love. The engagement was a jab to tease his counterpart, attempt to upturn his neutral face at such a bizarre proposition. But alas, as long as money and competition is involved, Illumi was ready to oblige, impartial features ever present on his face. 

—

The stars held shape for some time, littering the porcelain sink that Hisoka stood beside, before melting and merging to form a luminescent pool that shuttered as more crystal tears joined its flock. The molten spill emitted a soft glow, shifting in color and rippling like the feathers upon a peacock’s back.

Staring into the puddles of starlight was like gazing into a crystal ball. Each tear that seeped from behind bejeweled irises seemed to draw back old memories. Each and every one encompasses the ravenette that captured his heart. _This.. can’t be the last hurrah his memories play before they are at a total loss to him, right? The case studies never mentioned loss of memories... yet..._

Blurry scenes played behind Hisoka’s eyes as he stared into the forsaken starlight.

It has been some time before he thought about his initial run in with Illumi.

They hadn’t met through any contracts nor any nights when Hisoka’s blood lust rang clear.

Rather, Hisoka eyed Illumi from a distance.

His form was straight and neat, long hair falling in prestige and caping around a thin waist and a built torso. His pale skin looked skeletal from afar, and the soft flush upon his lips made him look like a Victorian prince trapped in time. His silence was awfully loud on the busy street and he eased through the crowds like a sharp card threw raw flesh.

Hisoka was certain he noticed him, despite walking the complete opposite direction of the lounging jester.

God, Hisoka wanted to drive his nail’s into him and _never let go_.

He was _delectable_ to say the least, and Hisoka couldn’t point a finger on why...

Until much later of course.

—

Hisoka wished to collect the liquid starlight into a crystal vase and will Illumi to drink it. With such gorgeous colors flowing in the assassin's blood stream, the magician was certain that he would shine brighter than anyone else would ever hope to. Truly an untouchable Angel.

He wanted to bead together those diamond tears and drape them across Illumi’s pale neck, possess him, love him, and hold him true. But they would be too sharp, wouldn’t they? The would lacerate his soft skin and bloody his heavenly body.

Illumi deserved everything he wasn’t. He needed stability, a warm embrace, someone to soothe the emotional scars of his youth and rub away the wounds from his harsh abuse. Hisoka was no better than an eccentric clown who paraded through the night and proclaimed his overbearing power to those who would hear it.

_He was nothing but a fool._

—

He watched his tears drip onto the window pane, admiring the mirage of colors that painted the grains of wood and echoed the soft soundtrack of twinkling. Hisoka was enraptured by the soft jingling that hasn't left him alone for days now. He refused to stop it, or else he would be left alone in silence once more. His head craned upwards, gazing out the large bay window and down into the city streets. _Have the neon lights always been so dull? Were they getting old?_ His head turned from the shimmering glass, taking care to peer into his surroundings. _Has... everything always looked so lack luster? Why did it seem like a gray filter was glazed onto his irises and blurring the world around him?_

He abruptly stood from his seat, long strides leading him into his bathroom and before his mirror.

_Flat. Drab. Dreary. Muted. Subdued._

Everything Hisoka tried not to be was the only thing that defined his appearance now. Flaming locks looked like a muted red, golden eyes have become a dark beige. So.. so.. so.. familiar... and _disgusting._

Soft taps of shoe soles on marble woke him from his entranced state. He quickly turned, arms staying limp besides him, no fear in his disheveled state, as he took in the person that now stood before him, gulping down his appearance as if he was starving. 

_Oh_... at least he always looked so _bright_.. even with the permanent filter that engrossed his surroundings. Illumi was endowed in a halo of slick iridescent black that was his hair, ebony eyes hid purple accents, his bright golden pins shined where they were propped into the green brocade fabric of his expensive clothes, subtle silver threads shined and gave way to minimal floral patterns hidden in his top and pants.

Hisoka felt a soft smile greet his lips as he refused to remove his eyes from the saturated Angel that stood before him.

Illumi’s mouth moved and the pale magician barely caught on, his lost eye’s prompting the assassin to repeat his words.

“Hisoka? What is going on?”

Hisoka’s lips turned up an uptick more, eyebrows shifting together and cheeks flushing upwards in a look of pure joy despite the tears trickling down the face. The liquid stars sang like breaking crystal and called out to Illumi like sorrowful wind chimes left in a decaying house.

“I’m alright now, Starlight.”

His eyes widened a fraction and his smile fell away to gaping lips as a pair of soft palms cupped his wet cheeks. A thumb, long and nimble, brushed underneath his eyes and caught the falling galaxies with it. Those hands which could kill him at any given moment now carefully wiped away the embodiment of his love with feather like touches.

Golden eyes gleamed, turning lustrous with hidden tears. The multifaceted irises glowed in the dim light, refracting colors of pink, blue, yellow, and it all was enveloped by the black void that stared back at him, eaten up and kept close within them.

Hisoka hesitantly tilted his head forward, glossy eyelashes shivering at the proximity, and when met with no resistance, he proceeded with his pursuit.

Plush lips met, parting with each other, breathing each other in, and blending the galaxies into their skin.

Yes, Hisoka may be _nothing_ , but Illumi was _everything_ to him. As he was the black void that accompanied the silence, he was also the one who hung each and every star in the midnight air. Hisoka could imagine slim fingers holding up glass ornaments filled with molten gas, bright blue and white light shining from within for eternity, and placing them delicately around the planets like halos. He could imagine him waltzing upon the moon and resting upon Saturn’s rings and becoming everything he knew. Illumi was terrifying as he was terrified, and he deserved nothing less than tears of stars to understand his worth.

_Illumi was his starlight, after all._

**Author's Note:**

> I might revisit this once my brain is back in working condition from finals week and add a bit more to match up with the Hanahaki AU length. 
> 
> Hope you liked it!


End file.
